


En'ca Minne

by ImJustFandomTrash



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Bonding, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Familial Bonds, Family, Fluff, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Rotting Corpses, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25328659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustFandomTrash/pseuds/ImJustFandomTrash
Summary: (Gameverse! Geralt...not Netflix. Sorry to my fellow Cavillary, but I will have more henry content soon I promise!)Geralt of Rivia is on his way to Crow's Perch in pursuit of his missing child of surprise, Princess Cirilla. However, while in Oreton, Geralt makes a pitstop at a merchant stand to refill on supplies when the merchant gives him a job. Taking on the job, Geralt decides to investigate and gets more than what he bargained for.Geralt of Rivia & Child! ReaderIdeas/Comments are greatly appreciated as this is my first witcher fic <3
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title means 'Little Love' in elder speech <3
> 
> please do leave comments. this is my first witcher fic <3

The province of Velen could only be described as one thing: shit.

As Geralt rode Roach through the countryside, the stench of rotting, burnt flesh, old blood, and the stench of rotting earth hung in the air. Hanged skeletons were everywhere, swaying gently in the wind as it blew, and Geralt almost cursed his sense of smell. It was one of the reasons why he hated coming to Velen.

There was no area in Velen where it didn’t stink of death.

As Geralt rode through, he shook his head slightly. There was no point in dwelling on the tragedies that had swept through Velen because of the war. After all, he was just a witcher; a monster hunter. What could he do? Nothing. Geralt urged Roach faster, planning on getting to Crow’s Perch as fast as he could if only to get out of the clouds of stench wafting into his sensitive nose.

The smell of war always made his stomach churn, even if just for a second.

As he rode closer to Crow’s Perch, passing into the Mire, Geralt made a stop in Oreton. Tying Roach up, Geralt almost rolled his eyes as the people began their usual whispers.

_‘What’s that freak doing here?’_

_‘Look, a witcher…must be monsters nearby.’_

All the same meaningless words. Honestly, Geralt was so used to the whispers that they became just that: whispers. As Geralt looked into his saddlebags, he noticed he was out of some potions and oils, and decided to approach the merchant at his stall. As he did so, the merchant’s eyes lit up, and he waved him over.

“Witcher, what a welcoming sight!”

Geralt was taken back from the words of the merchant.

“First time hearing that. I take it you have something to ask of me.”

The merchant gave an apologetic look.

“I…well, yes…but if ye do this for me, I’ll make sure to give ye the best discount ye can find in Velen…maybe even free things that aren’t, well, in high demand.”

Geralt crossed his arms. The more crowns that he saved, the better...

“Alright, I’ll bite. What do you want?”

The merchant looked relieved before explaining to Geralt, shaking his head nervously.

“Well, I had a close friend that was supposed to be coming to Oreton from Crow’s Perch. We often trade items…makes business easier when we know what is and isn’t in demand for the towns. It’s been days since I’ve seen them…and Hrothgar is never late. Always the punctual merchant, as we all must be.”

Geralt raised his brow a bit, saying to him and waving his hand a bit.

“He could have been attacked by bandits. Unfortunately happens a lot.”

The merchant shook his head.

“Aye, but this is a most worrisome case for Hrothgar was bringing his wife and wee lass with him.”

Okay, so a family possibly killed by bandits. It wasn’t exactly the worst job Geralt could take, but wasn’t the best either. Unfortunately, families were killed all the time while on the road. It was the way things were during war and even during times of peace.

The merchant could tell that Geralt was teetering on the edge of refusing the job, and he pleaded, clasping his hands together.

“Please, witcher. Ye not do much but look for them in the least? I’ll….I’ll pay ye if that’s what yer wanting.”

Geralt sighed lightly, taking the bait and nodding.

“Fine, I’ll look for them. You said they come from Crow’s Perch, right?”

“Aye, but they’re more of a travelling band. Crow’s Perch is just where they usually go. Bloody Baron makes good coin off their goods when they’re passin.”

Geralt nodded before saying.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise you they’ll be alive.”

The merchant looked saddened, but replied all the same.

“That’s alright…just as long as I know what’s become of Hrothgar and his family.”

Geralt nodded before bidding the merchant adieu, climbing up onto Roach and beginning on his way towards Crow’s Perch. He supposed that he could wait to buy the ingredients he needed for his potions and oils when the job was done.

After a while, Geralt could see what looked like the remains of a merchant’s cart, and as he got closer, he could see the bodies of two people. Jumping off of Roach, Geralt sighed. Inspecting the male’s body, Geralt began to investigate.

“These bodies have been dead for days…male and female…both seem to have died from stab wounds. Gotta be them.”

Geralt’s brow furrowed, however, when he remembered the merchant stated that Hrothgar would be traveling with two people, not just his wife.

Where was the child?

Geralt muttered to himself, tapping into his senses to get a better look around the cart.

“I should take a better look around…can’t be too far.”

Looking at the cart, Geralt hummed. This was a horse-drawn cart, but no horse and no child…was it possible the bandits nabbed them both? As Geralt looked around, he spotted four sets of tracks.

“These are most likely the bandits…but no horse tracks.”

Then, Geralt caught sight of horse tracks running from the cart and into the woods. There were old blood spots as well, and taking a closer look, Geralt was able to confirm that it wasn’t the child but the horse that was wounded.

“Couldn’t have gotten too far…horse must have taken a beating while Hrothgar and his wife released the horse…kid must have been riding the horse at the time of the attack.”

Geralt climbed atop Roach, pulling the horse into a canter as he followed the tracks and old scent of blood. As he followed the trail, Geralt began to smell the stench of rotting flesh and felt a strange sense of dread fill him.

A small hut began to come into view, and Geralt frowned. There was the horse, rotting with large chunks taken out of the body. Geralt became alert, looking around to make sure there weren’t any monsters that might try to sneak up on him as he walked closer to the horse. Leaning down, Geralt hummed deeply.

“Horse hasn’t been dead for long…and these carvings weren’t done by monsters…meat’s been taken off cleanly.”

Definitely by human hands. Geralt frowned before looking at the hut, zoning in on the hut, and that’s when he heard breathing. It was shallow, almost sounding sickly, and Geralt silently walked his way to the entrance of the hut. When he approached inside, the hut seems as though it had been lived in quite recently. Whatever happened to the previous occupants, Geralt wasn’t really in the mood for finding out.

Geralt’s eyes immediately went to a girl lying in the dirty bed, shivering with her back to him. Her hair was dirty and matted, the smell of unwashed clothes and skin invading his sensitive nose, and Geralt could tell that she was sick. Her clothes were that of someone with a wealthy standing, most likely bought for her by her parents.

Rips and tears were in the once beautiful clothing, dirt and mud caked onto the material, and Geralt could see what remained of the horse meat that had been carved out of the horse, the meat rotten and unfit to eat.

 _‘She’s probably been starving here for a while,’_ Geralt thought to himself. Now, how could he make his presence known without scaring the girl? Geralt swallowed thickly and knocked, announcing himself softly.

“Hey there.”

The girl’s heartbeat began to speed up in fear, and Geralt could hear her begin to sniffle. She hugged herself tighter, crying softly, and Geralt approached her carefully.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

The girl slowly looked back at him, her eyes bloodshot as she whispered.

“That’s what the bad men said to mommy and daddy before they hurt them.”

Geralt promised her, raising his hands.

“I promise that I’m not here to hurt you. In fact, I’m here to take you somewhere safe.”

The girl blinked at him, shaking visibly, and Geralt wondered if it was from the fear or the sickness. She became quiet, and Geralt asked her.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/n)…what about you?”

Geralt smiled kindly at her to try to put her at ease, sitting down on the old bed beside (Y/n).

“My name is Geralt.”


	2. Unto the White Wolf

“How old are you?”

“I’m seven. What about you?”

Geralt paused lightly, thinking just how young this girl was and how almost alike she was to Ciri. Shaking his head lightly, Geralt replied with a smile.

“Pretty damn old, kid.”

(Y/n) giggled before she began to cough and wheeze, and Geralt then got an idea of just how badly in shape she was. Her face was red, sweat running down her face and Geralt could see that she was breathing shallowly. She needed to get to a healer, and fast. Geralt was sure that if any more days went by, the girl would most likely die.

“How about you come with me? I know of someone who can clean you up and make you feel better.”

“You do?”

Geralt nodded and (Y/n) asked him, looking away from him softly.

“Mommy and Daddy…they’re not coming for me, are they? They told me to wait in the woods…find a place to hide until they would come get me…but it’s been days.”

Geralt never did enjoy this part of the job…when he would have to relay the bad news…but Geralt was certain that he’d never had to tell a child that their parents were dead before. With Ciri, it had been easier because she knew already. She was a smart kid like that, but this girl…she had no idea what happened to her parents, surviving on rotten horse meat and a promise of seeing them again.

“No, they’re not coming.”

Geralt replied quietly, and (Y/n) began to sniffle again. Geralt sighed deeply as she began to cry, mourning for her parents, and Geralt could do nothing but watch. In a way, Geralt was almost glad that witchers were stripped of most of their emotional receptors…that way it made things like this not feel as terrible as they were. Geralt allowed the girl to cry and mourn for a few more moments before urging softly.

“We should leave before the remains of your horse attract monsters.”

“I don’t wanna leave.”

Geralt shook his head and pressed, coaxing her gently.

“We have to. You don’t want to stay here, do you?”

“I don’t have anywhere else that I can go…”

Geralt shook his head.

“You can come with me, like I said earlier. We’ll find someone who can clean you up and make sure that you feel better before getting you to a better home. Your father’s friend was worried about you.”

“You mean the merchant with the funny blue hat?”

Geralt nodded and the girl slowly shook her head, keeping her face turned from him.

“I don’t wanna. He’s…he’s mean…like those bad men that hurt mommy and daddy.”

Geralt frowned deeply, asking softly.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t like it when mommy and daddy leave me with him when they want ‘mommy and daddy time’…said he’d tie me up by my dress and leave me for the monsters if I was bad and told mommy.”

Well, that was a new development. For someone who looked so worried about Hrothgar, Geralt didn’t know to be surprised or disgusted by the merchant. And just what did she mean by if she ‘told mommy’?

“(Y/n), has your father’s friend ever hurt you?”

She was silent, almost as if she was afraid to speak the truth, and Geralt could feel the fire of anger begin to ignite.

“It’s okay, (Y/n). You can tell me. I promise that he won’t hurt you.”

She sniffled again, and she cried.

“One time…m-mommy and daddy l-left…and left me with Syro…and-and he…he got mad because I was-was looking through his stuff…I was just curious…! He…he got angry and-and he hit me…took my dolly and burned her…and he said that…that if I told on him, he’d…he’d…”

Her voice trailed off as she began to cry hard, and Geralt could feel that fire in him erupt. If there was one thing that Geralt had a weakness for, it was admittedly children…and if there was one thing Geralt couldn’t stand more, it was people who found it easy to harm children. There really wasn’t anything that Geralt could do except make sure this little girl was never placed anywhere near this sea urchin of a merchant again.

“That he would hang you by your dress and leave you for the monsters.”

(Y/n) nodded, and Geralt said softly.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you. Come on, let’s get you somewhere much safer and better than this place.”

Slowly, (Y/n) nodded, and Geralt gently picked (Y/n) up, hating how light she was and how warm her skin felt. Geralt felt a bit glad that he found her before any monsters did…or death. How terrible it would have been for this little girl to die afraid, alone, starving, and waiting for parents that would never come.

Deciding that he wouldn’t be making a stop back in Oreton, Geralt gently sat the little girl on the saddle of Roach, who continued to graze at the grass before. Geralt pulled a cloak from the saddlebag and wrapped it around (Y/n).

“Here, let’s put this on so you don’t get cold while we travel to Crow’s Perch.”

The little girl seemed to perk up, saying.

“Mommy and Daddy go there all the time…the fat man likes buying what mommy and daddy sell.”

Geralt smiled lightly before carefully climbing up onto Roach, keeping the little girl in front of him.

“What’s your horsey’s name?”

“Roach.”

The little girl gently pet Roach’s mane, and the horse snorted lightly. Geralt grinned lightly before urging Roach into a relatively fast canter, heading towards Crow’s Perch while avoiding the sight of the attack. (Y/n) held onto the saddle quietly, not once uttering a single word, and Geralt sighed lightly as he began to think. What would Syro, as you had called the merchant, get out of Hrothgar and his family passing away?

Would it ensure stocks? Less competition? Was it possible that Syro was the one who organized this whole thing, and for what? Geralt was getting angrier as he thought about it, his grip on the reigns tightening. Would a person really be willing to kill off a whole family just for some sort of gain?

Of course they would. Temeria wouldn’t be having a civil war if that wasn’t the case, after all.

As the town of Crow’s Perch came into view, Geralt listened to (Y/n) cough and sniffle, sounding as though there was saliva stuck in her throat. It made him speed Roach up into a gentle gallop, and the hood of the cloak fell down a bit, revealing dirty and stringing hair.

Oh, yeah, she was definitely due for a very long bath.

Finally, they approached, and Geralt carefully steered Roach over the bridge and through the little village just below the fortress. As he went through, people stared at him and scoffed, gasping out of his way as Roach went on, and giving the girl in his saddle questioning looks.

(Y/n) seemed to shrink, leaning back against Geralt’s stomach, and he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as if to comfort her. She looked up at him, and Geralt nodded gently.

“It’s okay.”

Gods, how much this reminded him of Ciri. Sighing lightly, Geralt approached the gated entrance, two of the guards standing up straighter.

“State your business, witcher.”

Geralt greeted them, carefully hopping off of Roach.

“I’m here to see the Baron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments are appreciated. Please do leave a comment if you enjoyed this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing this story so much, and I hope that you enjoy it too.

The man looking down at him and scoffed.

“He won’t be seeing to just anybody. What you need him for?”

Geralt replied, crossing his arms.

“I need to speak with him. His ears only.”

The guard scoffed before allowing Geralt through, and Geralt turned to (Y/n) and Roach. Guiding Roach in by the reigns, Geralt followed the guard into the courtyard before leaving Roach by some piles of hay, picking up (Y/n) and situating her on his hip. For a moment, the guard and Geralt stood outside of the door, listening to the Baron speak to a guest inside. When a Nilfgaardian stepped out, the baron’s guard gestured Geralt witch his head.

“Get on with it.”

Geralt nodded before walking inside, the Baron holding his arms up in greeting.

“Ah-ha, our defender of the downtrodden. Greetings.”

Geralt nodded, replying.

“News gets around quick.”

“That it does. When I learned you’d slaughtered my men, I thought to have you captured and hanged. Or at least flogged. But then I thought ‘one tough cocker if he bested that lot of cutthroats. Man like him could prove useful…’”

Geralt shook his head, looking at the baron.

“I’m not a thug for hire.”

“I know who you are. But since you come here having perpetrated that bloodbath, I assume you’ve something important to discuss…like who the wee lass is upon your hip.”

Geralt could feel the girl perk up, and he nodded.

“I do.”

“Very well. Then let’s discuss it.”

Geralt replied, looking down at (Y/n).

“Got asked to look into a problem for a merchant. Turns out it was just to see if the job he hired some mercenaries for had gotten done. She was the only survivor. I found her in an abandoned shack in the forest surviving off the meat of the horse she escaped on.”

The Bloody Baron shook his head, letting out a quiet curse.

“The war has been hard on the people…and they have turned to any means they can to ensure that they will not suffer the repercussions of the war.”

“Some people are just cruel to be cruel.”

The Baron nodded before offering.

“Why don’t you stay here for the night? She can get food and water…and a bath.”

Geralt looked down at (Y/n), who had her head resting on his shoulder, staying quiet, and he nodded before finally discussing Ciri with the Baron.

-TIMESKIP-

When Geralt had finished with the Baron, one of the guards had shown him to a room, and Geralt set (Y/n) down onto a chair. Silently, he stood in front of her, her big (e/c) eyes looking up at him.

“You won’t leave me like mommy and daddy did, will you?”

Geralt internally winced. The life of a witcher was not one fit for children…but who would take (Y/n) on? The war was sapping everything it could from the people who were already struggling to take care of themselves or their families. Where could she go?

Kaer Morhen was always an option, but he doubted Vesemir would enjoy having another ‘she-devil’ hanging around. Geralt shook his head.

“No, I won’t.”

The little girl looked down at her dirty hands, and Geralt sighed before unbuckling the straps of his swords and set them down beside the door. Stripping his armor off, he was left in his boots, black trousers, and a white shirt. Walking to the basin of water, Geralt carefully used igni to heat the water.

When the water was warm enough, Geralt grabbed some oils and scented the water before looking over at (Y/n). She was a quiet one, not saying much as she watched him curiously. However, just as he was about to call her over, she asked him softly.

“How’d you do that?”

“Heat the water?”

She nodded, and Geralt replied as he rolled up his sleeves.

“It’s a magic spell that Witchers can use. We call them signs.”

As Geralt helped the girl out of her stained and ruined clothes, he glared at the bruises lining her body and just how malnourished she looked. Her ribs were almost visible, and there was a nasty bruise on the side.

_‘Maybe she fell off the horse…or was hit…but with what?’_

“Can anybody use them?”

Setting her into the bath, (Y/n) sat down obediently as Geralt began to douse her in water, cupping the warm water and letting it shower down her back.

“No, only witchers can use these signs.”

(Y/n) then became quiet, and Geralt gently scrubbed her back, the water quickly turning murky as the accumulated dirt and grime began to wash away. For a moment, it was quiet, before the little girl said.

“I could hear them.”

“Who?”

She was quiet for a second.

“Mommy and Daddy. I could hear them crying while the bad men hurt them. They told me not to look while they made Bucky run away into the forest, but I did.”

Geralt sighed softly as he listened, hating the way she choked on her breath as she tried not to cry.

“Why did they do that? Why did they hurt mommy and daddy?”

“Some people are just evil. Don’t really know why.”

The young girl sniffled, and Geralt sighed deeply. Gently tilting her head back, Geralt picked up a cup and filled it with water before running it through her hair, using his other hand to crush up clumps of dirt and mud so it would be easier to wash her hair. 

When the mud was gone from her hair, Geralt grabbed a comb and began to gently brush her hair, detangling the strands and smoothing the locks out. The girl was quiet, sniffling softly to herself, and Geralt couldn’t help but sigh as he listened. 

Geralt wasn’t used to having to comfort people. He was more of the _‘avenge the loss’_ and _‘negative mishaps are vital for growth’_ type of guy…but even Geralt knew how terrible it was to lose a parent (though, his mother had only abandoned him, not killed before his very eyes, and Geralt’s father had been killed before he was born).

Ciri was easy to raise because of how old she had been and how independent she was. Ciri was more of a _‘do it now, do it on my own’_ kind of child. In fact, Geralt was positive that there was never a moment where Ciri didn’t do something completely on her own without any help.

Well, except for now, of course.

When (Y/n)’s hair was all clean, her body spotless and the water practically mud, Geralt grabbed some linen to wrap around the girl to dry her off. She stayed quiet, her eyes downcast to the floor as he did so, and he pulled back to observe her. (Y/n) looked like a child again, skin squeaky clean and shining, hair flowing freely instead of clumped and matted with mud and grease.

There was a pile of children’s clothing on a dresser, a choice between two dresses, a nightgown, and a tunic, trousers, and some boots. Grabbing the nightgown, Geralt slipped it onto (Y/n), helping her with her undergarments before picking her up.

“There, all done.”

(Y/n) was quiet for a second before she mumbled softly.

“Thank you.”

Geralt replied, walking towards a spare bedroom, the smell of fresh food filtering through the door.

“Don’t mention it. Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do comment, I truly do enjoy feedback. Thank you <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are not ready for this part and nor the next ehehe <3

After (Y/n) had eaten and was tucked into bed, Geralt stayed in a chair just opposite of the bed, watching her closely. There had been some medicine for her given to him by one of the Baron’s henchmen, most likely to soothe her fever, and Geralt had made sure to give the medicine to the girl before putting her to bed.

There was still a strange wheezing coming from her chest, most likely an infection in her lungs, but Geralt could tell that her fever was starting to go down. Geralt wasn’t completely sure what the wheezing was, but he was sure the girl had food poisoning from eating the rotten raw horse meat for so long.

Honestly, Geralt was surprised she hadn’t died already from sickness. After all, it seemed as though she had been eating the horse meat since she hid in the shack. (Y/n) was a strong girl, but Geralt didn’t want to get his hopes up. There was still a chance that whatever was going on with her lungs would become irreparable, and he wasn’t about to give her any of his potions, not even a drop.

Geralt thought back to the herbalist, Tomira, and the woman he had helped, Lena, if he remembered correctly. It had been a risky choice, and Geralt wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what happened to Lena after being given one of his Swallow potions. Best case scenario: she survived. But…if it didn’t go well, then all he did to her was ensure a completely agonizing death.

That was something he couldn’t risk with (Y/n).

As she took a deep breath in her sleep, snuggling into the bed, Geralt sighed deeply. The best thing he could do is find an experienced healer or a sorceress. Finding a sorceress wasn’t exactly easy, but it wouldn’t be too hard. Though, if Geralt was honest, he wasn’t exactly interested in dealing with any sorceresses at the moment.

An image of Yennefer came into Geralt’s mind, and he sighed lightly. Even though the mutations given during the Trial of the Grasses were supposed to strip him of an emotional connection…Geralt did not think for a second that the love he felt for Yennefer was anything but love.

Geralt was sure that his feelings were true, even without that damn Djinn wish he made that time ago. The longing in his heart, the tightness in his chest when he thought about her, and the heat…it was all real.

How hard would she laugh at him for taking in another child, this time not because he had to but because he wanted to?

 _‘You’re getting soft, Geralt,’_ he could hear her say into his brain, an imagined image that rippled like a mirage in the distant heat of the deserts.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

(Y/n) coughed, making Geralt’s eyes shoot towards her, and he watched her for a second before looking back down. His eyes closed lightly, and Geralt allowed his head to fall back, a soft sigh leaving his lips. Geralt allowed himself to relax for a moment, just listening to the sound of (Y/n)’s sick breathing for a couple of minutes before his mind began to wander again.

The Baron was holding information back about Ciri and her whereabouts…bribing him with finding his wife and child for the information about Ciri. However, with what the Baron told him, it would mean that Geralt would have to travel to Blackbough.;

It wouldn’t be safe to have (Y/n) travel with him all the way to Blackbough while she was sick, but there was a feeling in his chest that made him unable to accept the idea of leaving her with the Baron while so vulnerable.

Gretka, the child that Ciri had helped, could keep (Y/n) company, but Geralt wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of the Baron even being in the same vicinity as (Y/n). There was something strange about the Baron…something that was being left unsaid, and Geralt rubbed his face.

He really fucking hated people who held things back. Often times, the information he could have had beforehand would be useful, even vital, for jobs like this. But, for Ciri, Geralt would have to deal with the aloofness.

Geralt would try to find a healer in the morning or at least someone who had more medicine for (Y/n) before embarking on the road to Blackbough for the Pellar. Geralt was sure that there could not be any more waiting.

Or, perhaps, the Pellar himself could help (Y/n)? It was worth a try, and it would be killing two birds with one stone. Sighing slightly, Geralt crossed his arms before getting comfortable, falling into a comfortable doze.

-TIMESKIP-

When the sun was just beginning to rise, Geralt was awakened by the sound of sniffling. Fluttering his eyes lightly, he looked over at (Y/n) to see her in a fetal position, crying softly. Standing up, Geralt walked over to her and asked her softly, shaking her awake.

“Hey, wake up.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she said to him.

“My tummy hurts.”

“Your tummy hurts?”

She nodded, and Geralt cursed softly to himself.

“I wanna throw-up.”

Geralt looked around for a bucket, but the only thing in the room was the washbasin. Not wanting to leave her alone in his quest to find a bucket for her, Geralt carefully bundled her up before walking outside. In the hallway was one of the guards, patrolling, and Geralt asked him.

“Hey, do you know where the latrine is?”

The guard looked down at the crying girl on Geralt’s shoulder before looking back up at Geralt. Sighing, he gestured with his head.

“End of the hall, door on the left. Shake the flowers when you’re finished.”

Geralt nodded before he spedwalk to the restroom, cleaning the place up a bit before allowing (Y/n) down. She sniffled again, and Geralt held her hair back before she promptly threw up into the latrine. Geralt shook his head lightly as he watched her, feeling worried for the poor girl. Was it possible she was far sicker than he had originally thought?

When she was finished, (Y/n) became exhausted, and Geralt shook his head before shaking the flowers, their putrid scent hiding the smell of vomit. Picking her up again, Geralt decided to leave right then and there for the Pellar.

“We’ll be leaving soon.”

“Where are we going?”

Geralt opened their bedroom door before setting her down onto the bed, packing all of their stuff up.

“We’re going to see a friend. They’ll be able to make you feel better…hopefully.”

She coughed, the wheezing getting louder, and Geralt almost felt…worried. When everything was packed, Geralt helped (Y/n) change into the small tunic, trousers, and boots that one of the servants had provided before brushing her hair.

“Will you braid it for me?”

(Y/n) asked him. Geralt hummed, replying.

“I’m not very good.”

“That’s okay. Mommy always said that practice makes perfect.”

Geralt smiled lightly before beginning to section her hair.

“She sounded like a very smart woman.”

“Daddy said that Mommy was an educated noble from Oxenfurt before they got married, and that’s why mommy knows so much.”

It was no wonder why the clothes the woman and (Y/n) had been wearing looked so damn expensive, besides the fact that their father was a successful merchant. Geralt wondered if (Y/n)’s mother studied at Oxenfurt Academy like Dandelion had. If so, there was a chance that Dandelion might know more about this noble woman.

He’d have to remember to ask Dandelion whenever he saw him.

“Do you know where she studied?”

“No, Mommy never liked to talk about her past. I once heard Mommy say that she never wanted to return to Novigrad because of the bad men in there.”

Geralt hummed in interest, asking (Y/n) as he carefully braided her hair.

“Do you know who she was talking about?”

“Witch hunters.”

That was interesting. If (Y/n)’s mother was worried about witch hunters, was it possible that she was an occultist or an herbalist?

“Why would your mother be worried about witch hunters?”

“Mommy liked studying things.”

Geralt wondered what this ‘studying’ actually meant. When (Y/n) coughed heavily again, Geralt decided to call the questions quit and tied her braided hair back. When it was draped across her shoulder, (Y/n) looked up at Geralt.

“Liar.”

“What do you mean?”

The little girl held up her braid, saying.

“You said you weren’t good, but you braided it just like Daddy would.”

Geralt smiled lightly, picking (Y/n) up before draping their makeshift rucksack over his shoulder.

“Guess I’m better than I thought then.”

The little girl smiled at him before laying her head on his shoulder, and Geralt was frozen for a second. He really shouldn’t get attached to someone who was most likely going to be temporary…but Geralt couldn’t deny that it felt…nice…being like this.

He could just hear Yennefer laughing at him…maybe Ciri too.

Walking outside to Roach, Geralt made sure to bundle (Y/n) up before placing her into the saddle. Climbing up himself, he guided Roach away before beginning to ride to Blackbough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do comment. Feedback is very much appreciated <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those who have been commenting <3

As they rode, (Y/n) made sure to hide her face into his chest, shielding it from the chill of the morning, and Geralt kept a hand on her shoulder as they rode on towards the. 

When the sun had begun to light up the valley, they had arrived in Blackbough, the village quiet and looking comfortable. Seeing a blacksmith and merchants, Geralt decided to stop by and ask about the Pellar while restocking, repairing, and buying some stuff for (Y/n).

“Stay with Roach.”

(Y/n) nodded, and Geralt approached the Blacksmith.

“Got a minute?”

“Sure thing.”

Geralt nodded once before asking him.

“Was wondering if I could have a look at your stock.”

The Blacksmith nodded, saying.

“You’ll find only the nicest blades here.”

As Geralt began to buy and trade with the Blacksmith, (Y/n) began to feel hot, coughing lightly. Geralt’s ears picked up, and he asked the blacksmith.

“Do you know where I could find the Pellar?”

“That old bat? He’s just a ways north. I warn ye though, he’s a bit messed in the head.”

That was just great. Geralt sighed before thanking the blacksmith, trying up his new stock to Roach before asking (Y/n).

“Are you okay?”

“My tummy still hurts.”

Geralt sighed before glancing at his bag with his oils and potions. He really shouldn’t give her any of his potions...but if it was the last option that he had, then Geralt would be left no choice. He really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Sighing lightly, Geralt replied.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get you some medicine.”

(Y/n) nodded, and Geralt climbed up onto Roach, beginning his way to the Pellar. However, when he arrived at the home of the old man, there were other people who seemed to want to see him as well. One of the men turned and gestured to Geralt.

“Hey, look! Some stray's wandered our way.”

“Sod off, freak!”

One of the men asked Geralt, glaring at the witcher.

“What do you want?”

Geralt climbed down from the saddle, replying as he crossed his arms.

“Wanna talk to the Pellar.”

The man scoffed, tilting his nose up at Geralt.

“Too late. We've got dibs on a chat with 'im. A long one.”

Geralt raised his brow. Had (y/n) not been with him, he would have already used Axii to make them leave. However, there was another part of him that wondered what the Baron’s henchmen would want with the Pellar and instead asked.

“What do you want from him?”

“To give 'im what he deserves!”

Geralt prodded more, raising his brow even more.

“And that is?”

One of the guards became angry, saying.

“He done conjured auguries. Said something evil had made its nest between Edric's bowels. Told Edric to eat rowan berries, lots of 'em!”

Another of the men spoke up.

“Ever since, Edric's lived in the outhouse, and he's got hardened pustules all over him!”

Geralt sighed and rubbed his bearded chin, deciding what the safest route to go would be.

“Just so happens I need the pellar alive. So if you agree to leave him alone, for good, I'm willing to tell you how to help Edric.”

The guards began to talk among themselves before one of them spoke up.

“Hmmm...well, all in all...”

Geralt became impatient, asking as his brows furrowed.

“Yes or no?”

“Fine. Let's hear it.”

Geralt instructed, gesticulating as he did so.

“A tea of mullein leaves for his belly and cover his boils with mallow. A few days and he'll be as good as new.”

The guards began to talk among themselves as they left, and Geralt looked over at (Y/n).

“Are you alright?”

She nodded, and Geralt smiled slightly at her before walking to the door of the Pellar’s home, knocking loudly.

“Hey! Anybody home? Open up, it's safe now.”

Through the door, Geralt could hear the old man.

“Devils! Who do they bring?! What seek ye?”

Geralt replied, glancing at the sick girl upon Roach’s saddle.

“I need your help.”

“Ooh...a man -- nay -- a wolf, gray, though not old...and with him, his pup…though not of the same fur…similar, yet unlike. 'Tis he the pellar awaits.”

The door opened, and there stood the old man. Geralt took the door opening as an invitation, and picked (Y/n) up, bringing her inside. The door closed, and (Y/n) was set down in one of the chairs, her bright eyes looking up at the old man in interest. Geralt picked an amulet from his pocket, holding it up for the Pellar.

“Recognize this? Made of spruce wood, strong smell of juniper. Designed to protect someone.”

The Pellar nodded to Geralt.

“Freshly cut spruce sprinkled with goat's blood, then tempered with an incense of earthsmoke and jupiter. For Anna. To protect her.”

Geralt became intrigued, asking the Pellar as the man rummaged through his things.

“So, designed to protect her. From what?”

The Pellar then shook his head.

“Oh, the dear -- besieged, she was. Evil all around, wanting to possess her. Old magic born of oblivion, from dark sources emerged.”

Geralt hummed.

“Old magic? Can you be more specific?”

The Pellar shook his head.

“Tis’ naught for mouth-speech, nor for the touch. A small protective charm -- not a thing a more a pellar could do.”

Geralt huffed lightly. Of course. It was always something that kept people from speaking.

“Anna and her daughter are missing. Know where they are?”

“Nay, no, nay. Pellar don't know. But the spirits could know. The pellar will augur, the spirits ask.”

Geralt became exasperated, showing no signs of his impatience except for the sarcasm that dripped from his lips like spicy honey.

“Spirits, great, fine with me. Long as I know where to look, where to find them.”

The pellar shook his head, mumbling almost too himself.

“Lost, lost...must be found... Princess! None better than Princess for findin' things.

“Princess? Which princess?”

(Y/n) perked up.

“There’s a princess?”

Geralt looked over at (Y/n) before back at the Pellar, who nodded furiously before escorting Geralt outside to show an empty pen.

“Princess! My goat! She's fled!”

Oh, for fucks sake. Geralt took a deep breath before observing.

“Those men must've scared her off. Can we get back to the auguring?”

The Pellar scoffed.

“Without the goat? Impossible. No goat? Hmph, won't work!”

Geralt scratched at his beard before letting his arms fall to his side.

“Huh, will you help me if I bring the goat back?”

However, the Pellar ignored him, calling for his goat.

“Princess, Princess, where've you got to, girl?”

Geralt groaned lightly to himself, shaking his head before walking back into the hut.

“I need you to stay here, okay?”

(Y/n) looked up at him, glancing at the Pellar when he walked back into the hut.

“Will you be gone long?”

“Not too long. I need to find Princess-his goat.”

(Y/n) looked sad, mumbling as she coughed into her arm.

“Oh, I thought it was a real princess.”

Geralt smiled lightly.

“Not this time, kid.”

Geralt looked over at the Pellar and said to him.

“Fine. I'll get your goat, but you need to do something else for me in return.”

The Pellar waved Geralt off.

“Already had the teas brewing, salves thickening, and herbs marinating. The spirits told me I’d need to brew medicine! Omens…the omens never lie.”

Geralt was surprised a bit before the Pellar handed him a bell.

“The bell! The little bell's ringing -- she loves it! Ring, ring, and she will follow! Uh, for a while. But beware of wild strawberries. Raspberries, too.”

Geralt gave the man a deadpan look as he took the bell, shaking it a bit before putting it into his pocket.

“Yeah, treacherous as beasts go. I always keep an eye out for 'em. You’ll give (Y/n) the medicine while I’m gone, right?”

“Course, course! Purge the darkness in the pup’s gut...make her fur shine again.”

Geralt was almost certain that the old man wasn’t completely right in the head, but if he was going to help (Y/n), then Geralt guessed that he couldn’t refuse the Pellar. Geralt leaned down a bit, sitting down beside (Y/n) and saying to her softly.

“I’m gonna be gone for a bit, but the Pellar is going to take care of you while I am. I trust that you’ll be good.”

(Y/n) nodded, and Geralt smiled down at her before placing a hand on her head, brushing back her bangs a bit before standing up. Getting his gear ready, he looked back at (Y/n).

“I’ll be back.”

Just as he walked out, Geralt did not miss the next two words that came from (Y/n)’s lips.

“Bye, Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 thank you, please do comment :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for those who have been commenting. It's appreciated.

Geralt froze, his golden eyes widened as the words echoed into his brain. His heart began to race inexplicably, and Geralt’s breath was caught in the back of his throat.

For a moment, there was a part of him that wanted to believe that he had simply misheard or even imagined the words, but the logical part of his mind knew much, much better.

His Witcher hearing never simply misheard things.

The door had already closed behind him, and for a moment, Geralt could only just stand in the doorway, the sunlight beating down onto his skin. The weight of the responsibility and the reality of the situation he was in hitting him like another foot to the chest.

It was a reality that Geralt was uncomfortable with facing.

If he took the responsibility of being a father for (Y/n), it would mean that he would have to expose her to the life of a witcher and monsters. Exposing her to the life that he lived would mean losing the purity that childhood had to offer way too soon.

Was that something that he could put this child through willingly just because she had adopted him as her new father?

Geralt looked down at the ground beneath his feet, little flowering weeds littering the damp soil, and he took a deep breath. He needed to focus…but he would have to address it at some point. For now, he’d focus on finding Princess. However, as Geralt began to follow Princess’ trail, Geralt’s mind began to wander again.

What would Ciri think of (Y/n)? Would she like (Y/n)? If Geralt kept (Y/n), he hoped that Ciri would like (Y/n)’s quiet company. Moreover, what about Yennefer? Would Yennefer like (Y/n) as well?

Witchers nor sorceresses couldn’t have children, but there was always a yearning deep down; a wonder of what it would be like to be a father. Before Ciri, Geralt had no desire to be a father…but when he called the Law of Surprise and therefore inherited Ciri…well, it all changed.

It was almost strange how fast he had welcomed the thought of a surrogate daughter into his life. Though perhaps at first, it had been because the Law of Surprise called for him to take care of Ciri…but as time went on, Geralt found himself enjoying the life of being a surrogate father for Ciri.

He dreamed many times of having many more children like Ciri, sometimes just him and his children, and other times with Yennefer in the mix. The dreams always left him feeling…fuzzy, if that was what he could call the feeling.

Was (Y/n)’s appearance in his life proof that perhaps the dreams he had of having more children weren’t just dreams and actually premonitions? It wouldn’t be the first time his dreams meant more than he had thought.

A moment later, Geralt was taken from his train of thought at the sound of bleating and immediately rung his bell while mumbling to himself.

“Can’t believe I’m hunting a god damn goat.”

-WITH (Y/N)-

The Pellar sat quietly as he waited for Geralt to come back with Princess, seated silently in his chair as he ate his dinner. The little girl that had been with the White Wolf was sleeping soundly, herbal teas heavy within her belly and a salve rubbed upon her back.

A charm he had made was above her head on the frame of the bed, dangling freely from a strip of leather. The wheezing within her chest was already beginning to dissipate, and as the Pellar drank his tea quietly, there was no sound but the girl's slight wheezing and the wind.

The spirits would heal her, that much was true, but how long would it last? How long would their protection for her be in place before time deteriorated the bond? Then what?

The life she would lead beneath the tearing teeth and bloody maws of the White Wolf would be a harsh one…that was something the spirits had made apparent…but they were not keen on revealing much else.

The Pellar had to face the reality that though the omens never lied, there were still chances that the future would change…something could influence the fate of the child, something far more sinister than he and the spirits anticipated...something cold….something…heavy. Shaking his head, he sipped his tea again and heard the faint whispers of the spirits.

Geralt had returned with his Princess.

Quickly, the Pellar set his tea down before rushing out to meet his incredibly missed Princess, the jumbled visions of snow and blood fading from his mind like a fluttering leaf in the midst of autumn.

-WITH GERALT-

When Geralt returned to the Pellar’s hut, the Pellar had already been outside waiting for him. When the old man saw his goat, he broke out into a small smile and rushed over to greet his goat.

“Princess! Flee not from the pellar, for there are wolves about! Goat of mine! Dearest, sweetest goat!”

Geralt sighed deeply before asking.

“Happy for you, but I'm kinda in a hurry. Anna and Tamara? They might be in danger.”

“The White Wolf helped the pellar, and so the pellar shall help him!”

Geralt nodded before opening his mouth to ask about (Y/n) when the Pellar seemed to scoff.

“Your pup is doing just fine. She sleeps peacefully as the teas do their work and the salve cleanses her lungs. The spirits were right. She harbored a dark sickness.”

Geralt hummed deeply before the Pellar held his arms up.

“Blood! We need blood. A living being.”

Geralt made a face.

“Fine. Be right back.”

When he had the rat, Geralt made sure to waste no time getting back to the Pellar. When he walked in, Geralt’s eyes immediately did a sweep of the hut, looking over at the only bed to find (Y/n) fast asleep.

Whatever the Pellar had done had definitely done a good deal. As far as Geralt could tell, the fever was mostly gone, and the wheezing had died down significantly. Geralt looked over to ask the Pellar.

“What about her stomach?”

“It’s calmed. The herbal tea is still cleansing her gut, so we must not disturb her.”

Geralt nodded before saying.

“Let’s do this.”

The Pellar began his ritual, and there was a sudden surge of energy, characterized by a strong wind. The Pellar then fell to his knees, and the augury began. As the augury began, the two men did not realize that (Y/n) had awakened and was watching with scared eyes.

What was happening? Why was the old man speaking in such a way? Why did his eyes look scary? (Y/n)’s eyes filled with tears, but Geralt nor the Pellar noticed as she brought a blanket up to her face, covering her body until just her eyes peeked out from the blanket.

(Y/n) didn’t completely understand everything that was happening, but she knew that it wasn’t natural. A strange hum filled the air, static zipping through, and (Y/n) was crippled and frozen with fear. As the Pellar and Geralt spoke of death, murder, beating, it made the little girl begin to shake.

Geralt, seeming to hear the shivering of the blankets, looked over to see the little girl awake and crying silently with fear. Geralt’s heart dropped, and he walked over to the little girl, saying softly as he kneeled beside the bed.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why are you crying?”

The girl stayed quiet, staring up at him fearfully, and Geralt swallowed thickly before gently reaching a hand up, brushing his fingers through her hair.

“Why did his eyes change?”

Geralt sighed and replied as the old man got himself together quietly, sitting down on the ground beside the girl’s bed.

“Spirits talk to him. He lets them use his body to communicate with him and others.”

“Why do they do that?”

Geralt replied, shrugging lightly.

“Depends. Some have messages to give to him and others, and some or there to try to tell him about the future. But don’t worry, they won’t hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

(Y/n) peeked her head out a bit more, and Geralt smiled lightly down at her before asking.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

Geralt nodded before (Y/n) asked.

“Are we leaving again soon?”

Geralt nodded.

“That’s right. We’ll leave in two days' time, that way you can get some better rest and I can stock up on supplies.”

(Y/n) nodded before sniffling again, and Geralt felt bad that she had to witness such a thing, but again, Geralt was faced with the reality and responsibility fatherhood would bring. (Y/n) would be forced to experience things like this all the time should she stay with him for the rest of her childhood.

In a quick moment, Geralt was frozen as (Y/n) sat up and hugged onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Geralt’s body was stone, unable to move for a second, and then Geralt wrapped his arms around the little girl. Holding her tightly, Geralt could feel the girl relax against him.

“It’s okay. Nobody nor anything is going to hurt you. Ever.”

“Promise?”

Geralt held (Y/n) a little tighter.

“I promise.”

And that was a promise Geralt didn’t plan on ever going back on for a very long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do comment. they are what keep me motivated :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, I forgot i was writing this for ao3 too LOL

After nightfall, Geralt was still wide awake. Lying on the bed, (Y/n) lying asleep on his chest, he was staring out the window. The moon was full, casting the land in a dim glow, and Geralt could hear the scurrying of nocturnal animals and the creaking of crickets.

It was a peaceful night, and for once, Geralt felt at peace. At least, at as much peace as he could feel with Ciri still missing. As (Y/n) adjusted a bit, Geralt looked down at her, gently rubbing her warm back.

As the night had gone on, the wheezing in her lungs had all but disappeared. There was still a slight wheezing, but it definitely wasn’t as bad as it was before. Her fever was gone, which Geralt was thankful for, but he knew that he was gonna have to monitor her recovery.

Geralt then began to think on everything else he would need to get (Y/n). Geralt would have to get her more clothes, possibly bigger and better saddlebags for Roach, and definitely better shoes. With winter approaching fairly soon, he would have to get her warmer clothes as well.

At the thought of Winter, Geralt began to think about Kaer Morhen. It would be a safe place for (Y/n) to be and grow, with the reassurance of a roof over her head and warm food in her belly.

With Geralt, she wasn’t assured of any of that. The Path of the Witcher was an uncertain one. In fact, the only certain thing about the Path was the blood he spilled, and that was it.

That wasn’t a life for a child.

Was Geralt doing (Y/n) more harm by keeping her with him? Geralt sighed deeply as (Y/n) made a small noise in her sleep, digging her face into his shoulder before settling again. Perhaps, in the long run, the life of a Witcher wouldn’t be the best thing for (Y/n).

Although, if she could stay in Kaer Morhen until she was of age or at least until the war was over, then she would still have a chance. There was nowhere else that she could go, Geralt was certain of it. Perhaps, that’s what he told himself anyway. 

Geralt didn’t want to admit that he was already attached. Gods, Yennefer would laugh so hard at him while Vesemir would have his head. He could just imagine how Eskel and Lambert would react to him walking up with (Y/n).

“You worry too much, White Wolf.”

Geralt looked over to see the Pellar sitting straight up with his eyes closed, seeming to be meditating. Geralt’s eyebrow became raised, and he asked the old man.

“What do you mean?”

“The omens tell many things, but a life without your pups is not one of them. Though the road to destiny is an uncertain one, we always find out way to our destination at some point. There is a reason why destination begins with destiny.”

Geralt scrunched his face up lightly before looking out the window. That word seemed to keep popping up, and it made Geralt’s skin crawl. Geralt hated the idea of destiney and someone pulling the strings…but he couldn’t deny the signs.

His dreams, Ciri and (Y/n)’s sudden appearance into his life, Yennefer…it really was all connected in some way. Did that mean destiny was real? Not necessarily. Did it mean that there was at least some form of fate? Perhaps.

The Pellar finally lied back down, becoming silent and quickly falling asleep, and Geralt was left to his thoughts again. Would it be better to leave (Y/n) with the Pellar during this new task he would need to complete? Botchlings were no joke, and if something went wrong, it would put (Y/n) in serious danger.

Once again, Geralt was at a crossroads.

Geralt could leave (Y/n) with the Pellar, but then the Pellar would have to take (Y/n) with him to do this ritual. If that happened, then Geralt would have no way of knowing if she was safe. However, if Geralt took (Y/n) with him back to Crow’s Perch to begin searching for the botchling, it would mean she would be in immediate danger.

Though, Geralt would with her, so it meant that she would be ensured protection. With the Pellar, Geralt really had no way of knowing if she would be safe, especially if the Pellar actually did go through with the Forefathers Eve ritual. Plus, Geralt still had to find the witch that Ciri had met as well.

Perhaps he could go to the witch first. If Geralt went to the witch, it would be a safer route than to leave (Y/n) with the Pellar. Besides, Geralt would need to keep (Y/n) with him to have her help him pick clothes for her. 

Geralt decided that in the morning, he would help give (Y/n) a bath and get some food into her body before setting off for Blackbough again. Letting his head fall back, Geralt allowed himself to fall into a comfortable slumber.

-IN THE MORNING-

In the morning, Geralt was awakened by (Y/n) sliding off his lap to the Pellar, who had made a large breakfast for the three of them. Geralt stretched, cracking his neck, and he watched for a moment as (Y/n) got her share of food, sitting at the table and grabbing the slab of meat with a fork.

Taking a bite out of the slab of cooked meat, Geralt stood up and walked over to the table. Grabbing the knife and fork from her, Geralt cut her food up for her, her eyes bright as she watched. When her food was cut, Geralt sat at the table, grabbing his share from the Pellar.

“What do we say to the Pellar for giving us breakfast?”

Geralt side-eyed (Y/n), and she mumbled around a mouthful of food.

“Thank you.”

The Pellar simply waved her off, replying.

“It is no big deal. Growing children need food!”

The little girl hummed, and Geralt dug into his own breakfast.

“Forefathers Eve approaches quickly, White Wolf.”

Geralt looked up at the Pellar, and (Y/n) asked through a mouthful of food.

“What’s Forefathers Eve?”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

Geralt said, and (Y/n) immediately swallowed her food before asking again. The Pellar hummed deeply, replying.

“Just exactly as I told the White Wolf, little one: Death lurks in every bog and puddle ‘round here. Folk know they could die, their earthly matters unresolved. Then they require help, or they’ll not know peace. They will be cursed to roam until their duties seek end.”

(Y/n) stayed quiet, seeming to think about something, and Geralt asked her.

“What is it?”

“Do you think Mommy and…and Daddy…do you think they’re stuck too?”

Damn. How was Geralt supposed to answer that? In truth, Geralt had no way of knowing. He had no idea if your parents had passed on, or if something held them back. The little girl was quiet as she waited for Geralt to answer, and Geralt answered slowly.

“No, I think your parents have passed on.”

The little girl nodded before finishing her food, looking to Geralt to ask.

“Can I go outside and play with Princess?”

Geralt nodded, saying.

“Don’t go far.”

“I won’t.”

She hopped out of her seat, running to go outside, and the Pellar shook his head slightly.

“You wish to give comfort to a pup that is not of your blood, but you do not realize the turmoil you will create with your words and previous choices.”

Geralt gave a glare at the Pellar, almost seeming to bare his teeth at the Pellar.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“The ones who share her blood have not truly passed. They are angry at you for stealing their pup, White Wolf. Do you know what this means?”

The Pellar gave Geralt a grave look.

“It means that she is in danger, and you must answer for it, Geralt of Rivia.”


End file.
